


blood in the cut

by Anonymous



Category: GOT7
Genre: Canon Universe, Consensual Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, Human Im Jaebum | JB, M/M, Vampire Choi Youngjae, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29651895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What Youngjae needs, Jaebeom will give.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29
Collections: Anonymous





	blood in the cut

**Author's Note:**

> Damn [these](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Eu2JNqYVIAELB5A?format=jpg&name=small) [damned](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Eu31N74UUAcgG-X?format=jpg&name=small) [pictures.](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Eu31N7xVgAIQFs0?format=jpg&name=large) Unhelpful. Also damn [this](https://youtu.be/DMA4vDwP7n4) song for popping up on my Spotify. Now this is what I get.

Youngjae is half lost to sleep, the heat from outside the car getting to him. Even though the car windows were tinted and curtains installed to keep out the sun which could be fatal to him, his heightened senses didn’t make it easier.

He’s jolted from the in between state of slumber and consciousness with a loud buzzing on his phone, almost forgetting that he’d tossed it into the cup holder out of exhaustion. An entire day of schedules was starting to take its toll, and he was running low on energy. He’d need a good... _refill_ soon.

Thankfully he knows someone who might just be able to provide that. The answer lay in his message notifications. He swipes his phone unlocked, a strained noise exiting his lips when he sees what’s greeting him.

 _A-cut,_ the message reads, and with it, a long line of photos, professionally shot. Ever since their lives had undergone a great change after seven years of being in the same place, each of them continued to busy themselves with other pursuits.

Youngjae gnaws lightly on his finger as he scrolls through the photos. “Jaebeom-hyung,” he mutters under his breath. Whether it was a curse or meant as awe, Youngjae wasn’t sure.

In the series of photos, Jaebeom was bathed in red light (Youngjae resists laughing out loud at the seeming irony of it all), in various poses that were doing really little for Youngjae’s imagination.

Youngjae’s phone buzzes again. _Like what you see?_ and Youngjae swears he can hear the teasing in Jaebeom’s voice, since Youngjae didn't reply the message immediately when normally he would get a response within minutes.

Youngjae swallows, scrolling back up to look at one particular photo – Jaebeom’s head thrown back, eyes closed, the fair skin on his neck bare. Fresh. Ready for the claiming.

It's not that Youngjae has never done so before. With all their years together, Jaebeom has long known of Youngjae's well, _condition._ What surprised Youngjae all those years ago when they were all living under the same roof still, was how unfazed Jaebeom seemed about it all. Maybe it was the fact that they had friends in other teams who shared the same affliction, but the way Jaebeom’s eyes danced with curiosity, with some newfound life – it made Youngjae think.

Youngjae knows Jaebeom is trying to rile him up, get him going. But Youngjae has always been patient if anything. _Not yet,_ he thinks, gripping the armrest of the car seat. It can wait.

He can already pick up the scent of something familiar when he reaches the hallway of his apartment floor, after stepping out of the elevator. The corner of his lips perk up. Someone is already waiting for him.

The scent grows thicker as he walks, but Youngjae has long learned to temper himself, to not charge in immediately and be completely lost to his instincts. Patience was more rewarding.

He taps in the key code patiently, pretending that it was just another ordinary day and he was merely coming home, that nothing awaited him behind the door.

The door beeps open, and Youngjae slowly shirks off his shoes, closing the door behind him. The scent fills the air, clouding his senses. It's so sweet, so alluring. He shuts his eyes, allowing himself to take it all in.

_All his._

Youngjae first goes to the kitchen, washing his hands before removing the coloured lenses he was wearing. It wasn't exactly an industry secret, more so a practice, with more idols well, like himself. He can sense the shift in his eyes, turning from a dark red to a slightly brighter shade to indicate his growing hunger that was pushing on ravenous.

He undoes the top button of his collar, his own senses beginning to overwhelm him. Splayed out on his long couch is a very welcome sight. It's a familiar pose he's seen before too, the figure on his back, defined features looking softer with his eyes closed.

And his throat, beautiful skin exposed, bare and ready.

“Hyung,” Youngjae murmurs, a cadence in his voice. “Jaebeom hyung.” He kneels next to the seemingly sleeping Jaebeom, placing a hand gently on his arm and removing it as soon as Jaebeom stirs, eyes opening slowly. He looks just like the photo, Youngjae thinks absently as Jaebeom blinks away sleep.

“Hi,” Jaebeom says, voice low and raspy from sleep. His mouth curls into a slight smirk. “Did you see?” he hums, not elaborating further on his words, knowing that Youngjae would catch his drift.

Youngjae scrapes his bottom lip with his teeth, the sharp incisor just barely showing. Jaebeom snorts in amusement. “Did you like them?” he tilts his head, folding his arms. Youngjae resists the urge to place his mouth on Jaebeom’s toned arm. That wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do now. Maybe later.

For now, Youngjae’s focus shifts to Jaebeom’s neck. He watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, feeling the growing intensity in Youngjae’s gaze. Youngjae’s senses heighten further and he can practically see the map of Jaebeom’s veins beneath his skin, waiting for him.

“Youngjae,” Jaebeom exhales. “What are you waiting for? Aren’t you hungry?” Jaebeom doesn’t sound resigned or patronizing, something that Youngjae both appreciates and loves. Sometimes Youngjae forgets that Jaebeom is human, and it’s not that he has some psychic ability to sense Youngjae’s hunger, but years and years of a relationship naturally developed that intuition.

Youngjae swallows. “I…”

Jaebeom shuts his eyes, tilting his head back. “Are you afraid of hurting me?” Here Jaebeom chuckles. “You’ve never hurt me, not once. I wanted it too, remember?”

Youngjae does. The memory is as clear as a cloudless night. They were much younger then, more unsure, more afraid. But Jaebeom, trustworthy, steady, took Youngjae’s hand, placed it onto his neck with a slight smile. Youngjae could sense that there was still some fear and doubt there, but it dissolves quickly when Jaebeom closes his eyes, hand slotted into Youngjae’s.

 _Go ahead,_ Jaebeom had said, sounding so willing. After Youngjae had taken what he needed, Jaebeom had smiled up at him saying, _whenever you need, come to me. You can always come to me._

And now, Jaebeom looks back at Youngjae with unwavering eyes, watching, waiting, wanting.

 _How could he want this,_ Youngjae thinks. A twinge of guilt makes its way out of Youngjae’s mind. It happened at times, even though much time had passed. Jaebeom moves a hand, gently brushing it over Youngjae’s cheek, like how he used to do when they shared the same room, when Youngjae was unable to speak on what he feared.

It wasn’t so much the fear of this life on stage they’d chosen, but Youngjae’s own ever present fear that he’d be lost to that ancient, feral power within him, the one that drove him to feed.

“I trust you,” Jaebeom hums. “I always have, always will,” and he presses his slightly chapped lips to the corner of Youngjae’s mouth. Youngjae can feel his warmth, a contrast to his own lack thereof, a sign of his supernatural nature.

“Now,” Jaebeom whispers, tilting his neck to the side.

 _Take,_ a voice, low, chilling, unforgiving, tempts from a corner of Youngjae’s mind. _Take what is freely given._

Youngjae relaxes, eyes a bright red. He parts his lips, and Jaebeom closes his eyes, feeling something sharp graze against his skin, before everything else fades. Youngjae lets out a noise against Jaebeom’s skin, a low sound from the pit of his being, as if unleashing something that had been hiding for so long.

He feels Jaebeom slacken, head thrown back, eyes half lidded, his own lips slightly parted. In this state, Jaebeom looks so pliant, willingly letting Youngjae take, take and take. Something damp drips down the corner of Youngjae’s lips, and his tongue darts out swiftly to lap it up, as if not wanting to waste any drop.

 _He tastes good,_ the being residing in Youngjae whispers. Jaebeom always seemed so well prepared for whenever Youngjae needed to feed, eating well and heartily. It made perfect sense that he seemed so sleepy and out of it whenever Youngjae came to him.

Then, Youngjae feels a gentle tap to his back. For a moment, it’s hard to let go, to retract his grip. But it is soon followed by another tap, and Youngjae retracts, eyes wild, now a bright yellow from being well sated. His mouth is a mess, and Jaebeom’s neck looks almost painted, messy and red. _A masterpiece,_ the voice whispers, and Youngjae takes a few more last licks at Jaebeom’s skin, lapping up the wound, as if driven by reverence - a wordless gesture of gratitude. It almost drowns out all of the shame. Youngjae has gotten better at it, knowing he needed this and Jaebeom, _his Jaebeom hyung,_ allowed this.

“Thank you,” Youngjae whispers, sounding as if all the air had been drained from him. He leans down to kiss Jaebeom, who doesn’t mind the mess.

It’s then, as he’s lost in leaving traces of himself against Jaebeom’s lips, that he feels it, their bodies flushed against each other.

“Hyung,” Youngjae huffs, sounding more like his usual self now. “Really.”

Jaebeom chuckles tiredly, before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively with whatever strength he had.

“No,” Youngjae says, tracing Jaebeom’s forehead with his thumb. “Not until you’ve had rest and gotten your strength back.”

“Promise?” Jaebeom says, still looking back at him in that intoxicating, alluring way.

Youngjae nods, his eyes darkening with something else. “Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> *blows a flying kiss before returning to my crypt*


End file.
